


Angry Scientists

by twinkinu



Category: Gravity Falls, Rick and Morty
Genre: Gen, they hate each other
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-21
Updated: 2017-08-04
Packaged: 2018-12-05 02:18:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,153
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11568273
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/twinkinu/pseuds/twinkinu
Summary: Two geniuses with three things in common (portal guns, tremendous egos, and short tempers) will inevitably cross paths from time to time. Stanford Pines doesn’t feel that Rick Sanchez’s character merits much respecting, and Rick has never shown respect to anyone in his entire life.They butt heads. A lot.(Some short ficlets featuring snapshots from these guys’ interdimensional interactions.)





	1. "I'm gonna grab your spinal cord and pull it out of your ass"

**Author's Note:**

> alright so these are all gonna be super short. should be an exercise in characterization, dialogue, and (hopefully) humor, as well as a periodic palate-cleanser for me.
> 
> enjoy the unbridled rage!

A clump of mud and small rocks slams down over Ford’s back, and he starts to stand up as Rick picks up another dirt-boulder to throw. “You mother _ fucker!” _

“Rick! Stop!”

“No,  _ you _ stop! You ratted me out, you  _ bastard!” _

“They were going to kill me!”

_ “I’m _ going to kill you! I’m gonna reach up your—I’m gonna shove my whole entire hand up your rectum, Pines, and I’m gonna grab your spinal cord and pull it out of your ass!”

“That’s anatomically impossible!”

“Your whole  _ body’s  _ gonna be anatomically impossible when I’m done with you!”

They’re wrestling now, rolling on the ground of a barren wasteland while Rick tries in vain to get a leg up on the competition; his intellect may be the only one in the multiverse to rival Stanford Pines, but his body is thin and spindly, while Ford is built like an elk and has Rick with his hands behind his back and his face in the dirt within minutes. 

“Get off of me, you six-fingered fucktard!”

“You’re acting like a lunatic, Sanchez! Will you just calm down for one minute?”

In what can only be a gift from the heavens, Rick seizes his struggling, allowing Stanford to relax his muscles and catch his breath.

“Alright, just listen to me. They were seconds from reducing my cerebrum to dog food, and all they asked was that I disclose your location. I knew that you were more than capable of handling them yourself-”

“Shucks, Fordsie, I bet you say that to all the girls!”

“So I saw no reason to lie.” He glosses over Rick’s interruption without so much as a blink in acknowledgement. “Besides, I  _ still  _ see no reason why I should sacrifice myself for you, even if you weren’t a perfectly adept fighter.”

“What, are you-” He interrupts himself with a belch, then continues, “Are you trying to butter me up, get me all—get me into bed?”

“Oh, grow up,” Ford sighs, giving Rick’s face a final push into the dirt before getting up and brushing himself off. “I’ll see you around.” He starts entering coordinates into his own portal gun.

“Yeah, I fuckin’ hope not, buddy.”

“Alright,” Ford dismisses as he opens a portal to his next destination.

As he steps through, Rick shouts after him, “I-I can’t fucking wait till you die, you hear that, pal?! You cross me again and I’ll have you drinking your own cerebrum through a fucking straw, Pines!”

Ford waves a hand. “Yes, yes. Right back at you, and all that.”

As the portal closes unceremoniously, Rick pulls out his flask and takes a long drink.

“Fuckin-” He belches, then wipes his mouth on his sleeve. “Fucking prick.”


	2. "Don't you have some intergalactic dick to be sucking?"

“So, like, was the third grade really tough for you? When they were trying to teach you how to multiply by nine but you had the wrong number of fingers?”

Stanford looks up from what he was doing (tinkering with a new device that should effectively break them out of this space dungeon without making too much noise) and raises an eyebrow. “Excuse me?”

“No, yeah, like—Okay. So, seven times nine.” Rick holds his hands out in front of his, fingers spread out, and folds over the index finger of his right hand, the seventh finger over, so that six fingers remained up on the left, three on the right. “That’s sixty-three. But for you it’d be like, sixty-five.”

Ford just stares at him for a long moment, expression entirely still and unreadable, the only feature indicative of any emotion being the one eyebrow arched far above the other. After some time, he lets go of an exasperated breath and turns back to his work without a single word.

Rick rolls his eyes. “Oh, _boo!_ C’mon man, I was just—I-I’m just _asking.”_

“I had my multiplication tables memorized up to fifteen by the time I hit first grade.”

 _“Woooooww.”_ The sarcasm is thick in the undulating tone of his voice. “Damn, Pines, bet you couldn’t get the ladies off you.”

“Don’t you have some alcohol to be drinking?”

“Don’t you have some intergalactic dick to be sucking?”

“It never ceases to baffle me how immature you manage to be.”

“Oh, it never ceases to baffle me how blah, blah, blah.” Rick starts flapping his hands in the air, mimicking Stanford with _blah blah blah_ ’s that eventually devolve into fart noises.

Ford sighs, putting the screwdriver down. “Okay. I don’t want to talk to you anymore.”


	3. "I'm angry, I'm desperate, and I'm fucking insane"

“Ow— _ Ow! _ What the fuck is wrong with you, Pines?!”

“I’m  _ angry, _ I’m  _ desperate _ , and I’m  _ fucking insane!” _ He chucked another block of ice at the other man, hitting him right in the shoulder. “I don’t appreciate it when you taunt me and feed my paranoia only to distract me so that you can steal my research and pawn it off to the highest bidder!”

“So you’re throwing ice at me?!” Rick dodges yet another heavy hunk of dense ice. “Y-you fucking  _ child! _ This isn’t  _ Home Alone 2!” _

“Give me my research back.”

“I already sold it, moron.”

“Get it back, or so help me  _ God _ I will cut you open and cauterize the wound with my ray gun.” 

“Yeah? Y-y-you think that shit scares me?”

“And then I’ll shoot you. In the eye.”

“Just shoot me in the eye  _ now _ and get—a-and get it over with.  _ Jesus.” _

“Fine.” Without missing a beat, Ford pulls his weapon and aims at the other man. 

Thanks to Rick’s excellent dodging skills, the searing beam of white-hot light shoots through his bicep rather than his face. He cries out in pain. “What the fuck?! Are you insane?!”

_ “Yes!” _ Ford explodes, firing several more shots at the flailing target.

“What, did your best and closest friend turn out to be an omnipotent demonic force that wants to lay waste to your whole dimension? Ha, oh wait!” He takes cover in a small, icy cave and searches his pockets for some weapon he can use (since Stanford had the foresight to have already stolen all this guns—what an asshole), but he finds his flask and sort of forgets what he was looking for in the first place. Until-

Ford tackles him to the ground, and they snowball toward the back of the cave, Ford’s hands clasped around Rick’s skinny little neck. His eyes are wide and wild, angry and severe.

“Wait!” the blue-haired genius choked. “Stanford! It’s—Bill! Bill!” 

Ford freezes, instantly drops Rick, and whips around to survey the landscape behind him. His heart is throbbing in his throat, until a swift blow to the back of the head lands him face-down in the snow, and the sound of deep, cackling laughter echoes throughout the cave. 

“Oh my God, I can't believe that worked!” The  _ vwrrp _ of an opening portal, the telltale greenish glow. “Hey, jackass. Gullible’s written on the ceiling.”

And then, he’s gone.


End file.
